


(I pray to God I didn’t waste) all my good years

by we_are_the_same



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Friendship, Gen, No Romance, No Smut, Or does he, Sort Of, Time Travel, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, Zayn Leaves One Direction, post march 25th, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-24 02:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_same/pseuds/we_are_the_same
Summary: Liam goes to sleep in a world where Zayn has just left One Direction. He wakes up somewhere quite different.





	(I pray to God I didn’t waste) all my good years

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Smutfree1Dfest](https://smutfree1dfest.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, which is modded by the wonderful [Lauren](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This fic has been read through by a whole ton of people, both on Tumblr and off. Thank you all for your lovely comments, and as always, thank you [Emmi](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/) for the cheerleading and the feedback.
> 
> This fic didn't go at all where I thought it would, but I like it anyway. I hope you do too.

Liam wonders when it changed.

When ‘have a fun flight home’ stopped being answered with ‘I’ll try but I’ll miss you too much Liam.’ When Zayn stopped coming into his room to talk to him, and instead sat at the breakfast table, quiet and thin and tired looking. When Liam stopped pushing for him to share and just let him slip out of reach long before he was actually gone. 

He wonders what he could’ve done different. If he’d noticed, if he’d pinpointed the exact moment, would he have been to change things? Would Zayn have stayed? Would there have been no March 25th, no heartbroken girls all over the world?

He remembers what Stephen Hawking had said, that one day there might well be proof of multiple universes, and in one of those universes, Zayn would still be in One Direction.

He wishes it was in _this_ universe though. That he could’ve done _something_ , so none of this would’ve happened. That Liam wouldn’t be heartbroken along with all those girls, crying himself to sleep. 

But it isn’t this universe. In this universe, Zayn left well over a week ago, and Liam should’ve known he wouldn’t come back but he’s always been a bit stupid where one Zayn Malik is concerned. In this universe, Zayn’s message on the band’s Facebook felt like a break-up text, and Liam isn’t sure if he wants to see Zayn one more time so he can punch him or so he can hold onto him and beg. 

Mostly, Liam just wants him _back_.

*

It doesn’t help that Liam feels like he’s the only one actually missing Zayn. He knows it’s not true, but he also knows that Louis reacts to being hurt with anger, and for days he’s been riling himself up whenever Zayn’s mentioned. Harry, in response to that, becomes dismissive. And Niall - Niall’s just _sad_ , and Liam wants to reach out to him and hold him tight but he’s too emotionally charged to be any good at comforting right now.

So he watches _This is Us_. A lot. 

Watches and sees himself talk about how they’d once had a serious meeting about whether or not to kick Zayn out of the band. He’s not sure how he’s managed to forget that, but he wonders, had Zayn known all along? Or had he watched the movie for the first time and realized how close he’d come to losing it all. Had he cared, at that point? 

Had that started it? 

Liam knows that he shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t drive himself crazy trying to pinpoint the when and why, but how can he not? He’s always been so good at planning but this happened right underneath his nose and he hadn’t _noticed_. 

(The alternative is that he _had_ noticed but just hadn’t cared and that- Liam isn’t sure he could forgive himself if that were the case)

He watches the scene where Zayn’s on the phone with his mum, can’t help but wonder if she’d known. If she’d been angry with him, with them, for not taking better care of her baby boy. Wonders if maybe she’d told _his_ mum, if they had talked about this. Had everyone known but him? But them? The four boys that had called themselves his brothers, that had always felt like it was them against everyone else. They’d lived in a bubble for so long, going from tour to tour, albums always dropping in November, always recorded on the road with too little sleep and not enough time to do anything but _be_ One Direction. 

He can’t really blame Zayn, is the thing. There’s times when he wanted out too. But he’d always talked about those moments, they all had. Or so he’d thought.

_After five incredible years Zayn Malik has decided to leave One Direction._

He can still remember how it felt to first read that message. It’s not like he hadn’t been aware that it would go up, he thinks they might’ve all sort of known this moment would come from the second Zayn stepped on that plane a week before. He just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Hadn’t understood _why_ , because he might’ve auditioned as a solo act but he’d achieved so much with the band, gained friends that were far more important than any fame.

_I am leaving because I want to be a normal 22-year-old who is able to relax and have some private time out of the spotlight._

Was that even the truth? Was that really why he’d left? A year ago Liam would’ve known. Wouldn’t he? He would’ve been able to tell whether Zayn’s explanation was just a soundbite from his PR. 

He thinks he would have.

*

It’s the night after another day without Zayn, a day Liam doesn’t want to remember or count because if he counts the days since he’s last seen Zayn then that makes it real and Liam isn’t ready for it to be real. Isn’t ready for the reality that One Direction is now a band of four, that they’ll have to divide parts and decide who can do which solo best. He knows that they’ve got to talk about it at some point, but he walks out of the room whenever someone suggests it. 

The only person he’ll listen to is Niall, but that’s because Niall doesn’t talk. He just comes over and wraps an arm around his shoulders and sits with him until Liam stops feeling like he’s about to shake apart. 

(He doesn’t really stop feeling like that at all, but at least he can pretend to hold it together long enough for Niall’s worried look to fade somewhat)

He’s watching old interviews with Zayn until his eyes are blurry and his heart hurts and his fingers cramp. His battery is at 6% but he doesn’t care enough to recharge it because it’s not like Zayn will message him, and the last thing he wants is another worried call from his mum, asking him how he’s holding up. Because he can’t lie to her but he doesn’t want to tell her the truth either, knowing she’ll just hurt right alongside him. 

His last conscious thought, the last thing he remembers thinking before he falls asleep, is _if I could do it all over again, I’d find a way to make him stay_. 

*

The next thing he notices is the sound of running water. He doesn’t remember getting out of the comfortable hotel bed but he must have done because he’s clearly in a shower, water running down his skin. 

And then someone screams. From quite closeby.

Liam opens his eyes, startled, but not nearly as much as -- the boy standing in the shower with him? Liam doesn’t have time to process it, because while that boy is wide eyed, _terrified_ , and Liam isn’t sure what happened or where he is, he definitely recognizes him. “ _Zayn?_ ”

The boy is unmistakably Zayn, but not the Zayn Liam is used to. This Zayn doesn’t have the tattoos, has yet to lose the softness on his face that’ll give way to striking features a little later down the line. Liam knows this because Liam grew up with this Zayn, this Zayn who was afraid to dance and look like a fool on TV, who had issues with his timing all throughout X-Factor. This Zayn who still goes by Zain. 

Zayn screams again, shoves at him, and Liam gets tangled in the shower curtain and lands on his arse in a bathroom he hasn’t seen in years. 

He must be dreaming.

He must be dreaming because otherwise he has traveled back in time, and that doesn’t happen. Time travel doesn’t _exist_. So he must be dreaming even when his arse tells him otherwise. 

“Who _are_ you?” Zayn demands, wrapping a towel around himself. Liam almost wants to tell him not to bother because he’s seen Zayn naked before, but just in case he isn’t dreaming, he doesn’t want to get arrested and have to explain that he hadn’t been stalking him, he’s just..from the future? “How the _fuck_ did you get in my shower?”

“I’m Liam.” Liam says. He doesn’t know how to answer the second question. It’s an excellent question, but Liam honestly has no clue. So he shrugs, rather sheepishly. Then adds, almost as an afterthought. “Your hair smells nice.”

It does. Not that Liam’s had much of a chance to really smell it, between realizing where he was and getting shoved onto his arse. But still. It’s not the expensive shampoo that Liam has gotten used to, it’s something sweeter and more generic smelling, and if he closes his eyes Liam thinks that he remembers this smell. From before. From when they were young and scared and fell asleep after talking about comics, sharing the same bed, sometimes even the same pillow.

“Liam.” Zayn doesn’t pronounce it the way he usually does. Leeyum. He just says it like he’s tasting something unfamiliar and unpleasant on his tongue. Liam sort of wants to cry. “How the hell did you get here? What are you doing in my shower?” He frowns, at Liam or himself. “Get out.” It sort of sounds like an afterthought, but also like he means it and is sort of angry with himself for not thinking of saying it before.

“Zayn,” Liam whispers, still sat on the ground with the shower curtain wrapped around him, feeling cold and miserable and confused, because he wanted Zayn back but this isn’t even a Zayn that remembers him. It sounds desperate and sad, and all Zayn does is frown at him.

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, mate, but I suggest you get the hell out of my house before I call the police. Alright?” For as intimidating as he tries to sound, Liam sees Zayn inch toward the door, as though he is worried he won’t be able to get away from him before Liam does - whatever Zayn thinks he’s here to do. 

He doesn’t _do_ anything. Just sits there on the floor, probably looking the least intimidating he’s ever done. But then, he realizes, looking down at himself, he doesn’t really look non intimidating at all. He’s got quite a collection of tattoos, his hair’s short and he’s got more abs than he remembers having at sixteen. In fact, he looks exactly like he did when he went to sleep. Which would make this whole thing being a dream a little more logical, but he can’t shake the thought that it just _isn’t_. It’s more than the fact that his arse hurts. It’s all the little sensations that he can’t ever remember noticing in dreams. Like how the tiles on the bathroom floor are kind of cold and there’s drops of water on his skin and his boxers are clinging to his thighs rather uncomfortably. 

So apparently, somehow, he really did travel back in time. Huh. He doesn’t really blame Zayn, then, for inching closer to the door with every second that Liam doesn’t reply. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounds too loud in the bathroom, and he scrapes his throat, determinedly doesn’t look at Zayn because Zayn _is_ seventeen and Liam is twenty one and that is probably all kinds of illegal even if he can’t exactly help having traveled back from the future to this very awkward and inconvenient moment. “I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I came here from the future?” 

Zayn snorts. “I don’t know how you got in here, but, time travel wouldn’t exactly be high on the list of options, no.” 

Liam nods. “My name’s Liam,” he says, unsure of where he’s even going to go with this. “Liam Payne. You’re Zayn Malik. In a few weeks, months, I don’t know, I don’t exactly know what date it is, but, you’re going to audition for X Factor. You’re going to be put in a band.” He pauses, casts a sad smile towards the ground. “I’m in that band with you. We don’t win, but we make it. For five years, we travel the world. Release albums. And then you leave. And I don’t know why.” He glances up at Zayn, relieved when he finds him still there, back firmly against the bathroom door but more intrigued than scared now. He probably still thinks Liam is a nutcase. That’s okay. Liam sort of thinks he is a nutcase too. Because it’d be bad enough dreaming up an encounter with Zayn just because he misses him so much, but somehow managing to travel back in time - that feels even worse. 

(He idly wonders what would happen if Zayn _did_ call the police. Would he manage to get himself stuck in this time? Would he end up living his life in 2010, alongside sixteen year old Liam who is just months from becoming famous? What would happen to Liam in 2015? Would he cease to exist? Time travel is confusing, and Liam thinks he should probably try very hard to convince Zayn that he isn’t crazy.)

“The last thing I remember before going to sleep was wishing that I could do it all over again, so I’d be able to find a way to make you stay. And then I woke up and I was in your shower.” He looks up at Zayn, helplessly. “This doesn’t feel like a dream. I don’t think you’d be this mad at me, in a dream, and my arse sort of hurts still from when you pushed me over.”

Zayn frowns at him. “What are we?” He asks, and Liam just blinks at him for a moment. Zayn sighs. “What are we to each other if you don’t think I’d be mad at you suddenly being in a shower with me?” He clarifies, but Liam still doesn’t really know how to answer that.

Because...they’re just friends. But Liam wouldn’t just hop into a shower with anyone, both in past or present tense. It’s just, they’ve lived in each other’s pockets for five years. Boundaries get blurred. There’s cuddles and sharing beds, and not enough time to wait a turn in the bathroom, so yeah, he’s had an eyeful of every one of his band members, especially in the early years. Hell, it had taken Harry less than a week to walk around naked and go skinny dipping. As much as Liam had felt embarrassed at first, he had learned to admire it, the confidence Harry had. And slowly but surely he’d let his guard down, so much so that right now he couldn’t even remember the first time he’d gone on as usual when someone had walked in on him in the shower.

“Do you believe me then?” He asks instead, and this time it’s Zayn’s turn to blink at him. He also shrugs one bare shoulder, and Liam realizes he’s got goosebumps. This conversation’s probably better suited for another moment, one where Zayn is at least dressed. But at the same time he’s scared to leave him alone, worried that this Zayn that he hasn’t ever met (yet looks so similar to the one he first got to know that Liam’s heart _aches_ ) will change his mind and refuse to even hear Liam out.

“I know I’m not dreaming,” Zayn eventually says. “I still haven’t decided what that means though. I don’t know how you’d get in my house, because I know I locked all the doors after my family went out, and I’d only been in the shower for a couple of minutes so I’m pretty sure I’d have heard if someone broke in.” 

Liam nods at that. “We can go and check the locks and the windows, if you’d like,” he offers. He’s not sure what else to do. He knows that he can’t leave, even if Zayn asks him to, because he went back in time for a reason. While he’s not sure how he’s going to keep Zayn from leaving the band when he’s traveled all the way back to a time where the band doesn’t even _exist_ yet, there has to be something he can do to stop March 25th from happening. 

If there isn’t, and Liam wakes up in his own time an hour from now, and nothing has changed, and this was a dream after all... Then maybe he should talk to someone. For as hurt as Louis is and how bitter, he knows that he’d listen. 

_If I can’t make you listen to me now,_ he thinks, _I’ll text you when I’m back_. 

Zayn meanwhile, has just been contemplating the situation, and it seems like he’s finally made up his mind. At least, he nods, as though Liam’s said something in the past couple of minutes, when he knows they’ve just been silently looking at one another. “Right,” Zayn says, and it’s slow, and Liam knows him well enough to know that what he’s about to say will sound far more confident than he really feels, because he’s been with him long enough to know when Zayn’s confidence is real and when it isn’t. When Zayn’s _actually_ confident he’s radiant, and Liam finds it impossible to keep his eyes off of him. When Zayn’s actually confident, he makes Liam’s heart ache with how proud he is of him. He’s still proud of him now, even when he pretends not to notice the way his voice wavers. “I’m going to get dressed. Then, we’re going to check all the doors. _And_ the windows. And if I find that you’re not lying, then, we’re going to look on the computer. If you’re from the future, then, there’s a younger version of you out here, right? I should be able to find him on the internet, and compare.” 

(Liam’s always felt much better, knowing that even when he had no idea how to figure something out, Zayn would always have a plan. 

He wonders if that’s part of why he’s been feeling so lost, recently)

He nods, shifts a bit, the uncomfortably clammy curtain still half wrapped around him. “Okay. Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He can prove that he’s really from the future, and then-- then, Liam isn’t sure. He’ll just have to figure out one thing at a time. “You, um, wouldn’t happen to have any clothes I could borrow?” 

*

Zayn’s a bit smaller than him, but he finds him some old sweats and a cardigan that Liam assumes are Yaser’s. He even gives him a towel, and while Liam feels a bit awkward about taking off his wet boxers, he feels even more awkward at the thought of asking Zayn for underwear. He figures he can give them back before he goes back - but he tries not to think about that too much, because if he’s honest he has no clue how he’s going to get back. Maybe it’s as simple as going to sleep, or maybe it won’t happen until he’s changed what he’s come back to change. But how will he know whether he managed, when the very thing he’s changing isn’t happening until years from now?

He wonders though, if that’s really true. If what had caused Zayn to leave hadn’t been years in the making. Could it really have started this early, before he’d even met them? 

If it had, what could Liam _possibly_ say that will change all of that?

Finally dressed, he’s relieved when Zayn comes out of his bedroom and the first words out of his mouth aren’t _I called the police_. He still looks wary, and by the time they’ve checked the doors and windows - which are all in order, not that Liam had any doubt - he looks, quite possibly, even _more_ wary. There’s a tightness to his face that Liam doesn’t recognize at first.

When he does, his heart aches. Because how had he not realized that _this_ is the Zayn he’s seen for the past months? Quiet, tired, yes, he’d noticed that, but they’d all been tired, caught up in this whirlwind. But he sees it now, in frown lines on a much younger Zayn, he sees the strain that he didn’t catch onto five years later. 

Liam bites his lip to keep from apologizing, just nods, when Zayn tells him they should look him up on the computer now. When the laptop’s ready and Zayn pushes it towards him, his fingers hover over the keys, useless like the rest of him feels. He’s drawing a blank, unsure of where to go that’ll convince Zayn that he’s not supposed to be here, not looking like this. “Facebook?” He murmurs, more to himself than anything, and Zayn scoffs.

Zayn scoffs, and tells him, “That’d be convenient, wouldn’t it? You could’ve just made a profile, used some old pictures.”

It makes him smile, because of course Zayn’s right, but also, Zayn’s so wrong because Liam would never think of doing something like that. He isn’t two steps ahead of the game like Zayn always used to be. And Zayn knows that, or he will know that, at some point in the future. If Liam doesn’t completely mess this up. Oh God, what if coming back here means that Zayn will never audition? 

He struggles to control his breathing, doesn’t want his thoughts spinning out of control because there’s so much he doesn’t understand but the point is that he doesn’t _have_ to. He just has to understand why Zayn left, or not even that. He just has to make Zayn understand that Liam wants him to stay. 

Liam swallows. “Okay,” he says quietly, sits there for another moment, trying to get his thoughts to stop ricocheting in his brain. Facebook is out. Where else could he go?

It takes an embarrassing amount of time before he realizes, time in which Zayn looks progressively more skeptical, though Liam can tell from the set of his jaw that he’s also rather curious once Liam finally starts typing in the url.

Youtube. His 2008 X-Factor audition. 

He hasn’t watched the audition in years, remembers when he used to, before his 2010 audition. Remembers scrutinizing it, wondering what he should’ve done different, because yes he’d gone through but he hadn’t made it and this year was meant to be different. He silently clicks on play, watches Zayn from his peripheral vision.

Zayn, who looks confused at what Liam’s pulled up, eyebrows knitted close together as he watches the screen, watches the cheering contestants before the voiceover introduces Liam.

The moment fourteen-year-old Liam comes on screen, Zayn actually _jolts_ , eyes growing large before he squints at the screen. Liam holds his breath, but only to keep from laughing, because he’s seen Zayn look like that before, and it’s something he’s missed. Zayn’s shrewd and he doesn’t like when he feels like people are pulling a fast one on him, but it’s clear from the way he’s staring at the screen that he can’t quite figure out how this is possible.

Except for, obviously, that Liam’s been telling the truth.

Fourteen year old Liam sings _Fly Me to the Moon_ , and twenty one year old Liam sits next to a seventeen year old Zayn Malik, hearing himself express a longing that had been within him for so long. He wants to tell him that they achieved it, that although they hadn’t played among the stars he’d felt as close to it as possible. He wants to tell him that it’s all been worth it, every bit of heartache and stress, all the moments where he doubted himself or was held back. He wants to tell Zayn that as much as he wants to tell young Liam that.

(He knows the song is about love, and not success, but they are both forms of longing, and one is a little easier to talk about than the other)

“I thought you said we were in a band,” Zayn says softly, the frown above his eyes a little less defined now.

“We were. I didn’t get past judges’ houses in 2008. Went back in 2010. Simon said I wasn’t ready in ‘08.” Looking back, he’s not sure he’d been ready in 2010 either, but he also knows that he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Because regardless of what fame had cost him (and there was always a cost), it had brought him four boys he’d love for the rest of his life. It had brought him unconditional acceptance; the ‘fun’ that Simon had been missing in his first performance. 

Zayn stays silent for a moment. Liam watches as he bites his lip, rubs at his wrist in a nervous motion that Liam wants to soothe. He doesn’t, just sits there, shoulders hunched, barely daring to breathe. Zayn struggles through the many questions that must be going through his mind.

“ _How_?” Zayn finally lets out. Then: “Why?”

Liam swallows. “I don’t know how.” He watches as Zayn raises his eyes to meet his, slowly. “Why-” his voice wavers. “You _left_. And I don’t know how to do any of this without you.”

“The band needs me?” It sounds skeptical, and Liam wants to cry. How could Zayn doubt how much the band needs him? 

“Yes. But. That’s not- _I_ need you.” It’s quiet. Liam’s teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. “And I - I feel awful. Because I think, you must’ve left for a reason, right? And asking you to come back is probably selfish. And maybe, maybe if I _understood_ I wouldn’t ask you to come back. But I don’t understand, Z. I don’t know why you left and it’s been killing me, and I can’t ask you because you won’t talk to me. And that’s - I reckon it’s my fault. Because I haven’t, somehow, I’ve made you feel like you can’t talk to me about that kind of stuff.” He looks away, embarrassed to let Zayn see him cry. Especially when this is a Zayn who doesn’t know him, who might not hold him as sweetly as his Zayn had done once upon a time. “And now I’m here and I still don’t know what to do. I don’t - I don’t know what it’ll take to get you to stay.” Admitting it makes him feel like he can’t breathe, because .. what if there isn’t anything he can do? What if this is it? What if he’s really, truly lost him?

X-Factor had given him a second chance, and he’d felt so lucky back then. But Zayn doesn’t owe him anything.

“Please,” he whispers. Swallows. “ _Talk_ to me, won’t you? When you - you’re going to do amazing, at that audition, but it’s not going to be easy, there’s going to be times when it’s hard and all of us are going to feel like we’re close to breaking. I don’t, I can’t _make_ you stay, I-” he exhales shakily when the truth sinks in. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to make you do anything that you don’t want, Z. I just want to _understand_. Can you, please, will you promise me you’ll talk to me? Even when it feels like I don’t have time for you, will you promise to come to me when you need me?”

Zayn stays quiet, and Liam isn’t sure what else to say, though he fears that this isn’t going to be enough. It can’t be that easy. It can’t all have been fixed just by talking. Because if it is -- then Liam has really dropped the ball and let him down. Then .. then it’s _his_ fault Zayn left.

“I miss you,” he says softly. “I missed you even when you were still there. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late. And, maybe I didn’t come back to change the past - your future. Maybe I just came back to tell you that I’m sorry that I let you down.”

He swallows. “Maybe this reality that I live in, the one without you, maybe that’s your happy ending even if it isn’t mine. And that’s okay. Zayn, I just want you to know that that’s okay. If nothing changes and you end up feeling like you want out, I want you to know that I understand. Or that even if I don’t, I’ll always support you.” He’s probably just rambling now, but he’s saying the things that he would’ve wanted to say to the Zayn in his timeline. The idea that he’s sitting at home somewhere, wondering if they hate him now -- Liam can’t bear that thought. He needs him to know that whatever Zayn decides, he will always love him.

Maybe that’s really all he came back for. Maybe nothing he’ll say will end up changing what happened, but as long as Zayn knows that he will always care for him, it’s going to be enough.

It _has_ to be.

Zayn doesn’t promise him anything. But he doesn’t look at Liam as though he’s crazy anymore. Instead he just looks thoughtful, and sort of sad. “It’s weird thinking that I could have this much of an impact on anyone,” he says eventually, his voice rich with the accent that had never quite faded, no matter how much of the world they’d seen. It sounds like _home._ “That I could _hurt_ someone this much. I don’t know if I like whatever version of me you’ve got.”

Liam shakes his head, wordlessly. “This isn’t your-” he starts, but Zayn cuts him off with a shrug.

“Are you saying you weren’t mad at me? At all? From the way you’re talking, we were pretty close, and you’re sitting here and telling me that you understand and it’s okay, and that’s all good and well, but are you really saying that because you mean it, or are you just being logical?” Zayn pins him down with a look, the one that can get even Louis to squirm. Lesser men have crumbled under that look. 

“I’m not-”

“Liam.” 

It sounds like _Leeyum_ , and a shiver rolls down his spine. With it, nausea settles in his stomach. He feels sort of short of breath. “I think I’m too sad to be mad. I think, right now, there’s no room for anything but _pain_ , Z.” He looks at him, at this Zayn who has the potential to become his Zayn. “Because - I don’t know where to go from here. Whenever I thought of my future, you were always there with me. Even when the band was over, even when we’d eventually break up or go on a hiatus and went to do our own things, you were always -- I thought we were in this together.” He pauses, the weight in his stomach growing heavier when he realizes. “So yeah. I _am_ mad. I’m mad because I loved you and you left, and I’m mad because it’s easier to be mad at you than at myself, and I’m also mad because maybe if I’d been in your shoes I would’ve done the same thing, but it still hurts that you were so ready to give me up.”

Zayn nods, like Liam is finally making sense. Liam’s not sure if he feels any better, and there’s tears pricking in his eyes, but it’s also as though he’s finally able to breathe for the first time since Zayn disappeared.

“Call him,” Zayn says quietly. “Me. Call me. When you get back to your own time, if it feels like nothing’s changed, if I’m not there when you wake up- promise me you’ll call.”

Liam feels weary. He feels like this conversation’s aged him and his body isn’t big enough to contain all the emotions that are currently raging inside of him. He meets Zayn’s eyes. “I promise.”

(Zayn makes him tell him the date he went back in time, just to be sure. Makes him promise again that he will call, his hazel eyes so earnest. Like he wants nothing more than for Liam to fix something that hasn’t even happened yet. Liam promises, of course he does, even when he can’t help but think that if this Zayn had all the knowledge that future Zayn did, he maybe wouldn’t want to hear from him)

*

Liam wakes up alone.

Liam wakes up alone and he checks his phone and the message is still there, and Louis still won’t even mention Zayn, and Niall still looks like he’s been crying.

He drags himself through another day and he charges his phone and he thinks _maybe_ … 

He sits in his hotel room at night and hovers his thumb over the contact.

He doesn’t call.

*

It’s not that he doesn’t want to call. It’s just that he hasn’t forgotten what had happened, and he didn’t wake up with Zayn magically by his side, and no one acts like anything has changed. And while he logically knows that it wasn’t a dream, it’s almost easier to pretend that it was. 

Because as much as he told him that he was fine with not changing anything, as much as he’d said that he understood and accepted it, Zayn was right. That was logic. And his heart- his heart is still aching, and he wants to cry because he’d been given a chance to fix things and he _hadn’t_.

He still remembers begging Zayn to talk to him. 

And he remembers that they did, at first. That they talked and argued and talked and cuddled and _talked_. (Much like they’d always done, even before he’d gone back)

He also remembers that it had changed. Just like it had done before. 

*

He wakes up to a text message. 

His eyes barely open, still heavy with sleep, he doesn’t even look at the contact before swiping the message open.

 _You promised_.

It’s been sent only a few minutes before, time stamped at 6:49 A.M. and Liam wonders why Zayn is even up. He’s never been a morning person, Liam is well aware of that, having been the one to drag him out of bed most mornings. 

He quickly pushes down the thought that maybe Zayn had been lying awake, thinking of him.

There’s a million reasons not to call. For one, it’s early and Zayn might’ve fallen asleep after sending it (unlikely). For another, Liam’s meant to be getting ready for the day. There’s also the small fact that he feels like an asshole for not calling, and he doesn’t think that any explanation he’s going to give is going to be good enough.

Because truthfully, he’d just been scared. Scared that this Zayn wouldn’t want to talk to him, because he’d lived through everything that Liam had neglected to mention in the past. Scared that he had regretted making Liam promise.

None of those reasons matter though, because his body acts on autopilot, bringing up Zayn’s info and pressing _call_.

He doesn’t even have time to wonder if Zayn’s going be an asshole back by letting the phone ring, because he’s picked up before it’s rung more than twice. He’s clearly nicer than Liam deserves. Even if he does pick up the phone with a hushed “You _promised_.”

It’s the hurt in Zayn’s voice that leaves Liam breathless. He’d been so caught up in all the reasons he shouldn’t call that he hadn’t given thought to the notion that Zayn had been actually wanting him to. Had been waiting for him to.

“I’m sorry.” It’s not good enough but it’s all he has. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. Because - nothing changed, did it? I didn’t manage to make you stay. I failed you.” He whispers that last part, hugging a pillow to his chest. His eyes are stinging so badly that he keeps them closed, but a few tears still manage to sneak past his lashes.

“Liam.” Only Zayn can at once sound so patient and frustrated. It only makes Liam’s eyes water more.

“I’m _sorry_.”

Zayn lets out a soft sound, far more wounded than anything Liam has ever heard. “It was never you,” he whispers back, and Liam’s pretty sure that Zayn’s got tears sneaking down his cheeks too. He’s always been able to hear it in his voice. “You were never why I left, babes.”

Liam buries his head in the pillow. 

“I wanted to stay.” Zayn continues, his voice barely audible. “I wanted to stay and then at some point - I realized that I just wanted to _want_ to stay. For you.” He exhales, shakily, but when he speaks again his voice is stronger. “I _had_ to, Liam.”

“But if we’d talked-”

Zayn sighs. It’s soft and almost fond. “If we’d talked then I would’ve told you. And then you’d have been hurting right alongside me. You’d have been feeling terrible because you would’ve wanted to fix it. You’d have - I don’t know. Felt torn between your loyalty to me and to the band. I didn’t want that for you, Li. I didn’t leave because I didn’t talk to you. I didn’t talk to you because I wanted to leave.”

Liam bites down on his bottom lip. “So this - it would’ve happened regardless?”

“Maybe.” Zayn sounds sad. “I don’t know. I spent years trying to fix whatever had gone wrong between us, but I don’t think that was ever meant to happen.”

“Did I make it worse? By going back and telling you?” The thought hurts. 

“No.” Zayn pauses for a moment. “No,” it’s softer this time, but no less adamant. “I don’t think you did. I think I would’ve wanted to stay regardless. I think - in a weird way, it helped. It helped because you told me you’d still love me even if I left. You made me feel like I didn’t have to be afraid, like I didn’t need to break myself a thousand times over just because I wasn’t ready to give up on you.”

Liam listens to Zayn’s breathing. To the shaky inhales that slowly become less so. There’s something comforting in it, and Liam matches his breathing to Zayn’s. It stops his eyes from pricking with unshed tears. “It helped because I knew that one day you’d call, and I’d be able to explain it to you. That this was never about you. And that I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as I still had you in my life. When you came back - I don’t know how much it changed, but I knew that we’d make it through. That regardless of what happened, at the end of the day, you were just a phone call away.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” 

Zayn snorts. “I should’ve expected it, really. I think I did, on some level. It - it didn’t hurt as much as I expected. Because I knew that it wasn’t that you’d changed your mind. Because, it’s only been a few days, for you, since you’d seen me. Even if it’s been five years for me since the day you ambushed me in the shower.” There’s amusement in his voice, and Liam finds himself smiling into the pillow. He’d missed that. The lighter tone in Zayn’s voice. “I figured I’d give you some time, seeing as how you couldn’t exactly tell me how busy you’d be. I didn’t worry, Li. I knew that even if you didn’t call, you’d pick up when I would. And that’s made all the difference.”

Liam finds himself nodding, his grip slowly loosening on the pillow. There’s a knock on the door that startles a sound out of him. Zayn’s laugh in his ear might’ve been the best thing he’s ever heard. It’s definitely better than hearing Lou shout at him to hurry up.

He ignores him, but Zayn doesn’t. “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?” It’s quiet, and Liam wishes he were able to give him a definitive answer. One that he’d want to hear.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “He’s pretty hurt. He misses you.”

“I miss him too. I miss all of you. It was never - if there’s anything I could change, it’d be that. I tried to change it. But maybe I wasn’t meant to. Maybe this is how it was meant to play out all along.” 

Liam hums softly, and Zayn sighs. “I should let you get on with your day,” he whispers, though Liam can tell that he’s not happy with the prospect of hanging up. “Tell him I’m sorry, will you?”

“I will.” Liam doesn’t tell him that Louis won’t want to hear it. Not now. Maybe in a few weeks or months, he’ll be able to have a conversation with him. Liam certainly hopes so. There’s nothing he can do to change that, but that prospect isn’t as scary as it once used to be. Because Zayn’s still willing to take his call. Zayn’s still putting in an effort, and Liam is always going to do the same. “Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I’ll call.”

Zayn laughs softly. 

“Really.” Liam insists.

“Me too.” Zayn says softly. “I wouldn’t promise you, that day, do you remember? I wouldn’t promise you then but I’m promising you now, Li. I’ll always come and talk to you if I need to.”

Liam smiles. It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please leave kudos/a comment, and if you want to, reblog the [fic post](https://so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed.tumblr.com/post/181809804228/title-i-pray-to-god-i-didnt-waste-all-my-good) and come say hi on Tumblr!


End file.
